


Don’t Want To Live My Life Alone

by tadpole_party



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, No fears AU, coffee shop AU, here’s how lonely!Jon can still win, this is really just me trying to figure out how to write these characters huh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26699647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tadpole_party/pseuds/tadpole_party
Summary: An exploration into feelings of loneliness, the concept of being seen by another person, platonic handholding, freckles, and dancing.
Relationships: Alice “Daisy” Tonner & Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 13
Kudos: 49





	Don’t Want To Live My Life Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from “Honeybee” by Steam Powered Giraffe.

What was it to be alone? Jon would think of his grandmother’s god. She believed so much in that god. A god that was always there for her no matter what. Someone permanently in her corner. She was never alone. Jon wondered if he was alone. He knew he was in the literal sense. He lived alone, he dined alone, he spent his days in the archives working alone (unless you counted his creepy boss who would come check in at random times). But was he alone in a more metaphysical sense?

He sometimes imagined that his grandmother was still out there somewhere, with her god, both of them watching him. He hoped that they were watching him with care. He knew that these thoughts were nonsense, but he still liked to entertain them. They were comforting, made him feel found. There were days when the feeling of being surrounded by others on a train, in a bus, at the supermarket, but feeling entirely empty and unnoticed was overwhelming. 

His day fell into a routine. It felt so repetitive. There was comfort in the repetition, but there was also a gateway to a great lack of anything in his life. He went and saw a counselor. They were kind, told him that variation would be good, to try to make friends. Jon didn’t sign up for another appointment. 

Their words stayed with him, though. He found himself on the bus again, on his way to work. Just like always. Show up an hour early, be in his office before anyone else even gets there. It was easy. He didn’t have to talk to anyone. Just had to work. 

He had felt distracted that morning. He tried reading during the bus ride, but he couldn’t pay attention. The words on the page were gibberish and blurred together. He remembered that bible story he heard about in church when he was young enough that his grandmother would still make him go. The Tower of Babel. All the people together, a tower built up to reach the heavens, people made to speak so many languages. That was him. This useless fight against the nothingness of the rest of his life was his tower, him trying to reach up towards the heavens. He got off at the next bus stop. 

He was pretty sure of where he was. Knew that it was only a couple of blocks from where he worked, wouldn’t be a problem walking. The voice in his head kept repeating variation, a change, something new. He walked into the first coffee shop he saw.

He decided that he liked it immediately. Maybe it was the comfy chairs and the good lighting maybe it was that it was something different. He looked around, not that crowded, he felt oddly safe. Jon liked feeling safe. There was so much in life that felt unsafe, it was nice that this wasn’t one of those things. 

He walked up to the counter without even thinking. All coffee shops have tea. He would just order an earl grey, it would be fine. Everything was going to be fine. The cashier looked up and Jon decided that everything was going to be more than fine. Everything was going to be great. More than great. 

Jon liked the cashier’s eyes. They were the first thing that he noticed. They were such a pretty color of blue and they were focused on him. He felt, of all things, very much seen, but not in a judgmental way, a kind way, a caring way. Jon thought about crying. Then he managed to register the rest of the cashier, the name tag that said Martin Blackwood. Jon wondered if his grandmother was right about her god. Maybe it was some miraculous all father who had made him get off the bus this morning, made him choose that stop, made him enter this specific shop, just so that Jon had the chance to see that many freckles. It made him want to laugh. 

“Earl grey tea, please.” Jon gave his order. The cashier flashed him a smile, Jon wondered if it was alright to get a crush on someone this quickly. Jon tipped well. A young woman with glasses and a name tag that read Sasha James called out his name, he accepted his tea with a thank you. He had a good day that day. 

Jon came back to that shop the next day. And the day after that. He fell into a nice schedule, going on the weekdays. He had the money for it. It became part of a new routine. Making his life different. He listened to more music, started to visit his grandmother and his parent’s graves more frequently. The surprising thing was that he started to go to church on Sunday. A progressive church, one that wasn’t too big, but not too small. Where he could just blend in, say good morning to the people, but not have to learn their names. He came to listen to the music. His grandmother was happiest the mornings she went to church. He figured that he could do this for her, he figured that he could go and listen to the music. That he could do this for himself. He reminded himself that this was for him. That he was living his life for him and no one else. 

He returned to the coffee shop. He quickly learned the staff’s names. There was Sasha, a tall woman with big hair. She was incredibly polite and had ridiculous eyeglasses. They were huge, round, wire things. Jon couldn’t help but think that they were somehow impractical. He liked her though, she was always so nice and would stop to chat when she could. 

Tim was a well built, conventionally attractive, bisexual man. It was hard for Jon to be comfortable around him for a while. Tim was so confident and would flirt and charm his way through anything, to be honest it scared Jon. With time he grew to like Tim for it. Tim would crack a joke to try and get Jon to laugh. Purposely misspell his name on the coffee cups to see if he could get a rise out of him. Talking to Tim was easy. 

Daisy was the last employee Jon met and the first he felt that he had really befriended. She was short and skinny and her hands shook. He didn’t really know what had happened to her. Had heard that she used to be a cop, something terrible had happened, and that she hated her previous self. Now she worked at the coffee shop. Jon never really did learn what happened to Daisy, but that was alright. He liked that Daisy’s wanted to talk to him and was easy to be around. She had a very serious, rather frightening, girlfriend named Basira who cared for Daisy immensely. Jon found them oddly charming after a while. 

Then there was Martin. God, where did Jon begin. Soft words, soft hands, Jon could only imagine soft hair. Tall with curly red hair and freckles and so desperately beautiful. Jon would sometimes imagine counting those freckles, there must be hundreds of them, creating his own constellations there. There were some constellations that were universal, that all cultures had seen in the night sky. Jon wanted to connect them and find the images there. Jon had these thoughts frequently and he was embarrassed of them, but Martin made good tea and was so nice to talk to. Jon wanted nothing more than to be as close to him as he possibly could, no matter how ashamed he felt about it. 

Jon started coming to the shop after work when he could. He would sit and read. Glance at Martin when possible. Listen to Tim’s jokes and Sasha’s retorts and Daisy’s laughs. It was nice. He didn’t feel alone. Soon he became a regular. They knew him, he felt comfortable here. He had been going for about a month and a half before he had a long conversation with any of the staff. 

The staff member that he had that long conversation with was Daisy. She got off work while he was there one evening. She approached his table. 

“Hey can I sit with you? It’s Jon, right?” She asked, fidgeting. Jon was delighted. 

“Yeah, it’s Jon. You’re Daisy. What’s it like working here?” He replied. Jon couldn’t help but be proud that he had remembered a conversation starter. Daisy sat down across from him and smiled, albeit nervously. 

“It’s a disaster.” She said and Jon let out a laugh. “I do love them though. ‘Sira says working is good for me. What do you do?” 

Jon cracked a smile. Look at him, an adult having a conversation with another adult about work. Things can be easy sometimes. He’s allowed to have things be easy. So, he answered Daisy’s question. 

“I work as an archivist at the Magnus Institute. We catalogue paranormal experiences. The job title sounds very exciting, but it’s boring as all hell. I think my boss might be a serial killer if that makes it sound any better.” 

“It does. Better than having Tim for a boss. He owns the place.” She replied. Jon fought surprise, but really it made sense. Tim was always at the coffee shop. It was his place. The conversation continued. It was so nice. 

Daisy leaned slightly forward towards Jon. She had relaxed some as they had continued talking. She whispered to him, “Martin’s into guys. Thought you should know.” Jon felt his face turn red entirely against his will. Daisy laughed the hardest he had heard yet, revealing surprisingly sharp canine teeth. 

“Stop being mean Daisy.” Sasha teased from behind the counter. 

“I am not.” She protested and stuck out her tongue. 

“You better not be.” Came Basira’s voice from behind her. Daisy looked up and seemed to relax under Basira’s gaze. Jon felt like he was intruding, then Daisy turned back and looked at him. She handed him a piece of paper. 

“it’s my phone number. You should call me. We should go for a walk or something.” Jon held the paper in his hand and fought off tears. He knew he shouldn’t be this excited. A friend. He had made a friend all on his own. He didn’t have to be lonely. There was more to life than just routine and loneliness. 

He walked out of the coffee shop, not really paying attention. So he was very surprised when he ran right into somebody at the bus stop. Warm hands grabbed his shoulders to stop him from falling. Jon looked up and felt his entire face down through his neck warm. Martin smiled nervously down at him, blushing. 

Jon spluttered out an apology. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and-“ 

“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry.” Martin reassured him. Then he seemed to realize his hands were still on Jon’s shoulders and his blush somehow got even darker. Jon found it sweet. Jon wasn’t sure he had found something like that sweet before. 

They both waited at the bus stop. Martin drumming his fingers against his side, Jon shifting his weight between each foot. Both wanting so desperately to talk to one another and both so scared to do it. 

“Are you waiting for the bus?” Martin asked. Jon looked up. 

“Yeah, um, I am. I’m not just standing here for fun.” Jon winced after he said it. “I mean, I’m sorry. That sounded mean. I was trying to say that I’m not just here to keep you company, though it is a bonus. I- um- can I start this over?” 

Martin laughed and Jon forgot everything for a moment. “You can start over.” He said, still smiling even after he had stopped laughing. 

“Hi, I’m Jon. What do you do to make the tea taste so good?” Jon was equally glad and completely distressed that Martin stopped laughing. On the one hand it gave him enough mental space to find a way to start a conversation, on the other hand Martin had stopped laughing. 

“I make it just like anybody else does. It’s just tea.” Martin shrugged. 

“No, no, you don’t understand. I’ve had a lot of tea. Yours is simply the best. I don’t understand how you do it.” Jon explained. This was going better than he thought it would. He was close enough to Martin that he had to fight the urge to kiss every single one of those freckles. Jon had to stop having thoughts like those, made it difficult to talk. 

“If you would like I could show you sometime.” Then the blush returned, Jon was a little happy to see it back. It was very cute. “No- I- uh- I didn’t mean that as a date. Like I could just show you.”

“What if I want it to be a date?” Jon asked before he could even stop himself. Martin seemed to freeze. 

“Not unless you don’t want it to be, of course.” Jon said, then the bus came. He got onto the bus as fast as he possibly could. Martin was still standing there. Jon took his lack of answer as a bad sign. 

Jon took a couple of deep breaths. It’s going to be fine. Today had still been a good day. He had made a friend. He was going to call Daisy tomorrow. Go on a walk with her, she seemed like she would enjoy that. Ask her for advice. She had a pretty supportive relationship. Everything was going to be just fine. He repeated that over and over in his head, but he couldn’t get the image of pretty, caring Martin standing there, frozen, unsure of how to tell Jon that he just wanted to show him how to make tea. Jon tutted at himself, he just wanted to show you tea, no date, just friendship. 

He didn’t go into the coffee shop, but he did call Daisy. They met up for a walk that afternoon. Jon could tell that she was having a bad day. She kept very close to him, took a lot of purposely steady breaths. Rubbed the fabric on the sweater she was wearing. He understood that she couldn’t be alone. He offered to hold her hand, she said yes. It was nice, Jon couldn’t remember the last time someone had held his hand, even if it was just platonically and to give a new friend something grounding. 

He told her about Martin at the bus stop yesterday. How he was scared that he had messed it up. Daisy listened, squeezed his hand. She was a good listener. The walk was comforting, hell it was even fun. 

The sky was overcast, but not rainy. There was a slight wind, but it wasn’t too chilly. It was a pleasant autumn afternoon and Jon was happy that he wasn’t there alone. Daisy told him to come into the coffee shop the next morning. She promised that he was going to be alright. Jon hugged her when she said that. He realized that he needed the contact just as much as she did. 

Jon did as Daisy told him to. He got off the bus at the same stop, went into the same shop. This was his new routine and it was comfortable. This routine didn’t bring emptiness, just a nice familiarity. Things were gong to be okay. 

He entered the coffee shop, walked up to the register without a second thought. He would order his earl grey tea. Maybe if he was lucky Martin would even make it. Martin really did make it best. Then Jon realized who was at the register. 

“Jon! Um, go on a date with me!” Martin said surprise turning to enthusiasm to embarrassment. Jon found it so endearing. He couldn’t help but smile in a way he was sure was ridiculous. 

“I would love to.” He replied. Martin returned his smile. Jon ordered his earl grey. When he saw a heart and a phone number next to his name on the cup, he laughed a little. Martin was sweet and liked him. It was such a good and kind thing. Jon liked him in return, sometimes more than he thought reasonable. 

Jon called Martin that night. They made a plan for a date at the end of the week. It was going to be at Martin’s place. Jon dug up some cds from his college days. He flipped through the rock and steampunk, laughing to himself about how he used to dress and act. He put on something soft and danced by himself in his one person apartment’s kitchen. It was good. Life was good. 

The date went well. Jon helped Martin make pasta. They made tea afterwards. It turned out Martin did nothing to the tea to make it special. Jon couldn’t wrap his head around the practicalities of it. Martin didn’t do anything to make the tea taste better, it just did. Jon felt the warmth of the tea in the mug and hummed to himself. 

He asked Martin to dance with him that night. Taught him a basic foxtrot. It made Martin laugh. He was sweet and caring. Jon liked him a lot. He could be happy with Martin. He decided he would be. In an act of courage, Jon kissed Martin’s cheek that night. Martin responded by kissing him on the lips. Martin tasted like chamomile and warmth. Jon didn’t believe in god and doubted he ever would, but in that moment he thanked whatever had brought him here. He was lucky and he was alive and he was so so happy. He didn’t have to feel unseen and alone again and that was good. Life was so good.

**Author's Note:**

> The secret to why Martin’s tea tastes so good is love. Also the song that Jon dances to in his kitchen is definitely Joni Mitchell’s Both Sides Now specifically the recording from Clouds.


End file.
